


A Deal With The Devil

by orphan_account



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Billionaire Businessman Derek, Coercion, D/s elements, Graphic/Explicit/Rough/M/M Sex, Human/Bottom Stiles, M/M, OOC, Questionable Consent Issues, Slightly Darker Than My Usual Writing, Top Derek, Unbeta'd, Werewolf/Human contemporary AU, light BDSM elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2495984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha billionaire businessman Derek Hale is used to getting anything he wants, he decides he wants Stiles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Please do <b>not</b> post elsewhere without consulting the author.Thank you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Deal With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I have a problem writing short fics. (This IS short for me.) So I decided to try a Billionaire Derek/Stiles fic of under 15,000 words. This is the result.
> 
> A little dark. (Well greyish) Christian eat your heart out!!
> 
>  
> 
> Inspired by the elevator scenes in Fifty Shades of Gray by E L James  
> &  
> A single scene in the Castaway Series by Sara Fawkes

_Triple H Holdings_ was a werewolf run and owned business, not that Stiles cared. He wasn't racist and nowadays most successful business in the world were run and owned by Alpha werewolves, it was a fact of life. What stopped it from being depressive for the human population was the inevitability of it. Scientists had discovered that 82.9% of the most successful CEOs (and therefore richest in the world), had the recently discovered monoamine oxidase-A gene.

This jumped to 100% in Alpha CEOs.

It was quickly concluded that the euphemistically nick-named _Warrior Gene_ was what made an Alpha an Alpha.

It was of course far too simplistic a view. It was true the gene predisposed the owner to be assertive, even aggressive in certain circumstances, it dictated how they dealt with stress, irritation, frustration and queue jumpers. Whether they merely slapped your wrist or tore off your head, literally. It was linked to risk taking, being able to make snap advantageous decisions, perceived aggression in others, leadership skills and ordering from a menu. The male and female werewolves with this gene were life's leaders, dominant, successful decision makers, leaders of countries, armies, businesses and packs. They were charismatic, sensual, magnetic and usually, but not always sexual predators.

One in three of the male human population also had the gene and one in seven females. In them it resulted in road rage, barroom brawls and multitasking.

All this meant very little to Stiles beyond a general interest because, y'know he was an intelligent, curious kind of guy. Stiles did not possess the warrior gene, he was one of life's followers an easy going, go with the flow kind of dude at the moment down on his luck.

He'd been down on his luck for the last three years.

Stiles hadn't bothered to research the owners of Triple H Holdings, mainly because he didn't care. It was a temporary gig aimed at paying his bills and keeping body and soul together. The mind numbing daily grind of data entry was not his career of choice, but it paid well, mainly because it was so mind numbingly boring and it was the only position the job agency had on their books. If he had bothered to research Triple H holdings he would have discovered it belonged to the Hale family. In order of age, Peter, Derek and Cora Hale. Peter and Cora were _sleeping partners_ (figuratively not actually because y'know they were uncle and niece and you have to draw the line somewhere), in fact they were more like comatose. They took no interest in the business whatsoever and Derek was CEO and the buck stopped with him, which it did and made him a multi billionaire.

And he was drop dead gorgeous to boot. Life was so unfair.

oo00oo

The highlight of Stiles day ( his life really), was seeing the gorgeous stranger every morning Monday thru Friday.

Weekends sucked.

He hurried through the lobby as fast as decorum and workmen allowed him. The building in which he worked was old and undergoing an extensive remodeling, modernization and refurbishment program, starting with the ancient electrical system. Wiring dangled from the high ceilings and he weaved through ladders and toolboxes, past disgruntled workmen and attempted not to fall either flat on his face or his ass.

The dark haired stranger arrived at the elevators punctually at 8.30 AM not a minute sooner or later, but dead on 8.30 and so did Stiles and this morning was not going to be the exception. He jockeyed his way through the knot of workers waiting for the cars to arrive and stood as close as he dared, but not too close to the stranger. He stared fixedly at the elevator doors and cast inconspicuous glances at him with his brown eyes from under the curtain of his long lashes whilst pretending to ignore him. It wasn't for amusement although it sometimes seemed that way. Men as handsome as the stranger were way out of his league and Stiles wasn't foolish enough to believe this man was any different.

Didn't mean he wasn't allowed to dream.

And dream he did, every night. 

The car doors opened and Stiles shuffled forward with the small crowd and the stranger into the car and stood as was usual against the rear wall, as people disembarked he would gradually move forward. He made sure that he had pressed the button for his floor and waited. 

The old, some would say 'historic' building was getting everything new, including elevators. For the moment they had the smaller, slower elevators that took their time in wheezing laboriously up the building disgorging some of their contents on each and on some days, every floor. Ascent was slow and halting, nevertheless the metal box did it's job and chugged up the floors above.

Stiles rearranged the backpack on his shoulder, taking a chance to slide his eyes toward the stranger and catching his eye. He wondered if he knew he watched him and what he thought if he did. He felt his cheeks heat and quickly turned his eyes forward again, his skin pricking with awareness of the stranger. The car stopped, doors slid open and disgorged a few passengers. Stiles moved forward a step into a void created in front of him, doors closed, the car jolted and started on its way again. 

He was still eleven floors away from his destination.

Stiles was currently employed as a temporary data processor for Triple H Holdings. Their business occupied most of the upper floors of the building but his small cubicle was tucked out of sight in a forgotten and seldom visited corner of Data Handling, somewhere about the middle of the building.

He loved the way the stranger always looked. Immaculately dressed and groomed in a variation of the dark business suit with matching tie, crisp white shirt, gold cufflinks and shiny, black Oxfords. His suits were obviously tailored for him and fitted him like a second skin. 

One probably cost more than Stiles made in a month.

They emphasized his wide shoulders, muscled torso, trim waist and slender hips. His thick, black hair was slightly waved and he wore it in a collar length, swept back style. His skin was a golden brown tan, he had a blade nose, high but not especially sharp cheekbones, sensual mouth, strong jaw with just the right amount of stubble that would have no doubt looked stupid and scruffy on Stiles, but on him looked just perfect. His eyebrows were thick and black above the most amazing eyes Stiles had ever seen. They were a translucent, pale, smokey green, clear, shrewd and intelligent. Brown flecks circled the pupil and a narrow gray rim ringed the entire iris. He looked Satanically handsome and boldly masculine.

He took Stiles breath away.

There was no doubt in Stiles mind that the stranger belonged on one of the executive floors, perhaps even the top. Everything about him screamed wealth, society, privilege from his look to the way he held himself and claimed the space around him to his lithe, fluid movements and innate dominance. He was far out of Stiles sphere of influence and he knew it. That didn't stop him from being part of Stiles fantasy life and his dreams always included him, for the last month anyway. His was the face he saw when he closed his eyes. It wasn't surprising, it had been almost three years since Stiles had , had sex; even a one night stand or a blow job in a back alley. His dreams were starting to get desperate and pretty kinky.

He got through a lot of hand lotion.

Allowing himself to think about his fantasies was a mistake. Stiles felt heat roll through his body from his toes to the top of his head and a slow smile spread across his face just imagining being pushed against a wall and ravaged - oh hell yeah!

The elevator continued on its way, passengers disembarked and the doors shut and Stiles pulled himself out of his reverie and realized for the first time he was standing directly facing the doors and he and the stranger were the sole occupants of the car. Sweat misted his skin, his scalp prickled and he swallowed nervously around a sudden lump in his throat. His hands felt clammy as he smoothed down the jacket of the suit he wore for work with his free hand. Stiles was aware of tension ratcheting up in the confined space and he didn't know why as the old elevator creaked and continued its trek up the building. The stranger hadn't moved a muscle from where he stood in the rear corner of the car and yet Stiles felt the scorching heat of his eyes on him and desire began to uncurl in the pit of his stomach and blood ignited in his veins. He wondered vaguely if this was one of those elevators that had cameras...

The faint rustle behind him wasn't unexpected but it made Stiles swipe his tongue over his dry lips and breathe more deeply. A thick arm appeared beside him and a manicured index finger pressed the red button on the brass panel and the car shuddered to a halt. Before Stiles could open his mouth to say something arms appeared either side of his shoulders and hands pressed flat against the doors, a hard body pressed behind him, effectively caging him in. 

Warm lips moved against his ear," I see you on this elevator every morning. Not by accident I take it?" The breath was sweet gusting against Stiles cheek and his tone amused.

Stiles was dumbfounded, shocked into silence and he blinked in wide -eyed confusion. Was this really happening? If he pinched himself would he wake up and discover it was all a dream?

Stiles found himself pressed against the car doors by the hard body behind him, the cool metal contrasting sharply with the heat soaking through his clothes from behind. His nipples were suddenly hard against the cold metal and he choked back a moan.

"What? - I..." He started to speak his voice trailing away as he felt the stranger's hard length press into his hip.

"I can smell your arousal," the stranger growled low in his chest, the sensuous sound sliding over Stiles and making his body tighten. "Every morning for the past month you've got on this elevator and I can smell you, smell your need." He rasped. "It's been driving me mad."

Stiles wrinkled his nose, damn werewolf, that was personal. They had no sense of boundaries.

One hand dropped down and broad fingers entwined with Stiles as the wolf's nose skimmed down his neck and inhaled deeply just above his collar. "What's your name?"

Unconsciously Stiles tilted his head to allow the wolf more access. His mind went blank for a moment as his brain did a hard reset and he forgot the most basic of answers. The wolf's voice was low and sensuous, it slid over Stiles and caressed his senses like a velvet glove and he found it hard, almost impossible to think. The wolf pulled back minutely and he thought wildly, the backpack sliding from his arm as he lifted his hand and pressed the palm flat against the hard metal in front of him.

"Stiles - Stiles Stilinski," he murmured, his eyes closing as the wolf dragged his lips up the length of his neck to the soft skin and reservoir of scent behind his ear and inhaled.

"Stiles," he repeated rolling it around in his mouth as if testing it.

Stiles drew in a shuddering breath at the sound of his name dripping from those lips.

"Well, _Stiles_ I hope you taste as delicious as you smell."

There was no request for permission. The wolf's broad, hot, tongue swiped a path up Stiles neck and he tilted his head further as the wolf's tongue flicked out and licked shell of his ear. He nipped sharply at the lobe, sending a spark of pain to his groin and making Stiles cock jump and start to harden. The human moaned and arched, pressed back against the wolf. He flexed and rotated his hips pressing his hard column of flesh against Stiles ass making his breathing become ragged and bounce off the walls of the car, sounding loud in the silence.

"God you're lovely, so fucking hot." The wolf said in a throaty whisper, "Look at you all milky skin, long lean muscle, dark hair, doe eyes, pouty pink lips, a tilt to your nose and moles that I want to join up with a trail made by my teeth...Perfect."

The wolf's hand delved beneath Stiles jacket and stroked up and down his side and trailed over his hip. The hand slid down to his thigh and skimmed around to his ass, kneading and caressing his cheek until Stiles moaned, his head rolling along the broad shoulder behind him and his round globes grinding back into the hard column of flesh. The wolf chuckled at his wanton display and the powerful scent of _need_ that rolled off him. His hand slid over Stiles hip, his stomach and down as he cupped his cock and _squeezed _until Stiles breath came in harsh choppy pants and small whines of want. Strong fingers traced the outline of Stiles erection and deftly began lowering his zippered fly. The teeth of the zip _ground_ in the silence as it was lowered tooth by tooth. A warm hand reached inside his boxers and strong fingers cuffed Stiles stiff cock and drew him out, the broad crest glistening with pre-cum. Unconsciously Stiles pushed into the wolf's hand with a whine and the wolf's fingers tightened on his flesh, the steady pulse of Stiles big vein throbbing against the palm of his hand. He seemed to take a moment to weigh and judge the heft of Stiles cock and then he gave it a friendly squeeze and began to stoke up and down moving the velvet sheath and swiping his thumb over the broad, glistening head.__

__What was left of Stiles functioning brain couldn't believe this was happening. His body bucked and his hips swayed forward into the wolf's pumping hand and back against his hard cock behind. It was like all his fantasies coming true at once and being played out in glorious high definition. He was helpless, trapped by his treacherous body's desperate response and the exhilaration that spiraled through him that blanked his mind to everything but where the wolf touched him._ _

__The wolf's grip was scorching and his fingers seemed to pulse, one hand shifted across the straining crown of Stiles cock the other pumping the root with a ruthless expertise and rolling his balls. Stiles hips flexed and swayed of their own volition, craving more of his touch. His grip tightened and sped up, tug, pump, his fingers gliding up and down Stiles slick flesh in a harsh rhythm. His body tightened, muscles stiffened and he began to tremble as the wolf's hand pushed him in a mindless rush toward release. Stiles moaned and groaned, mewled and whispered intelligible words as he rolled his head along the muscled shoulder behind him. He cried out in shock and pain when the wolf's teeth sank through the fabric of his jacket and into the meaty flesh of his shoulder and hung on mouthing against the fabric, grinding against the flesh. Stiles keening cries filled the elevator. The wolf's fingers slid to the head of his cock and flicked against the sensitive nerves under the rim._ _

__"Come for me," the wolf commanded with a low growl that echoed through Stiles body to the core and made him shiver with the sensual promise of it. Lips and teeth dragged up his neck and the wolf's nail dug into the slit,the sudden pain was all he needed. Stiles gave a strangled cry bucking violently once, twice as his climax crashed over him and ropes of pearly cum splashed against the metal of the car doors and over the wolf's fingers. Stiles slumped forward and rested his forehead against the cool metal, his body shook with aftershocks and he felt boneless._ _

__The telephone beneath the brass panel sounded loudly in the car drowning Stiles labored breathing and making him jump. The blaring tones cut through the sex induced haze and his brain came back on line with a vengeance. What the fuck just happened? Post orgasmic euphoria was replaced with mortification and panic. A hand reached from behind and handed him a handkerchief to swipe over himself. The stranger stepped back helpfully and gave him room to clean himself up and hurriedly tuck himself away and zip up. He turned to return the handkerchief to its owner and found the stranger leisurely licking his spunk off his fingers with a smirk on his face._ _

__"You taste better than I ever imagined." The stranger's voice rumbled and Stiles went weak at the knees._ _

__Embarrassed, Stiles shoved the handkerchief into his own pocket and quickly turned to the brass panel and pressed the buttons, _all_ of them. Much to the amusement of the wolf._ _

__Numbers lit up and the car shuddered into motion and the telephone stopped ringing. Immediately the car sopped at the next floor, Stiles stumbled out as soon as the doors opened not caring where he was. Thankfully the hallway was deserted with no people in sight to see his shame. A quick whistle from inside the car and Stiles turned his head toward the wolf to find him lounging against the back wall a wicked smile on his face. He held out his forgotten backpack dangling enticingly from two fingers. Stiles reached and plucked it away with as much dignity as he could muster. The wolf's smile widened and Stiles was caught in the web of his utter gorgeousness. He winked, "I'll be seeing you again, soon."_ _

__The doors of the elevator car swished shut and it continued on its way. Stiles stood for a moment staring at the elevator. He took a deep breath and fumbled with his clothing and tried not to focus on the growing tide of embarrassment that threatened to overwhelm him and trigger a panic attack, instead he shouldered his backpack and went in search of the nearest restroom._ _

__A few minutes later and without visible signs of his elevator adventure, Stiles took the car up to his floor and arrived only six minutes late. The halls to his cubicle were packed with arrivals settling in to begin the day's work. No-one looked in his direction or spoke to him, which wasn't unusual._ _

__He logged on at his terminal and was soon drowned in the mindless drudgery of data entry and tried to forget his out-of-character and shocking wanton sexual display of earlier._ _

__

____

oo00oo

The day passed in a mental fog . No matter how hard Stiles tried he found it impossible to focus on work. He had suffered from Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder all his life, the symptoms becoming easier to manage in adulthood. On the face of it data entry should have been a nightmare occupation, however a triple dose of Adderall and Stiles found his naturally keen mind, attention to detail and long, nimble fingers made data entry a breeze. He often allowed his mind to wander and still maintained a high degree of accuracy which put him in a class of his own as far as temps were concerned.

But not today.

His mind kept wandering to the events that took place in the elevator and despite an extra dose of Adderall he had to check and double check very line of entry. Progress was slow and more tedious than normal. His mind would flash back to the elevator, the handsome stranger and the first and only semipublic orgasm of his life, when he got back he couldn't remember what lines he'd entered and had to start over.

Everything about this day was so unlike him. He'd always been a sexual creature but confused about his sexuality, he hadn't known what to do about it. He didn't admit to being gay until his last year of High School, his dad had been cool about it, he'd lost his mother when he was nine so there was just them. Boys had never asked him out and he was invited to few parties until his first year of college. The few boyfriends he'd had hadn't stayed around longer than a few months. His life at the moment was boring, mostly out of necessity- student loans and bills didn't pay themselves and living near the city made things a lot tighter. He didn't find much connection with men his own age, they tended to watch the sports channels, he preferred National Geographic. Not that he didn't like sport he'd been on the High School lacrosse team, well the bench mostly, but he liked sport in small doses.

Dating, whilst the least of his worries the last couple of years was NOT a strong point.

By the time lunch rolled around he was seriously worried. His reaction to the stranger and easy seduction were troublesome, he simply did not act this way, fantasy life be damned. It wasn't who he was, he even avoided one night stands and it could not be allowed to happen again no matter how much he wanted it too and how desperately sexually frustrated he was. He needed this job even if it was mind numbingly boring and he couldn't allow himself any more distractions. But the problem was his job didn't require he use much of his brain to begin with and he couldn't stop remembering how the wolf had felt. His hard, muscled body, his soft lips and sharp teeth, the way his large hands had molded to and slid over his body and the fire they had left in their wake, the heft of his cock and promised strength and stamina. The thought sent shivers down his spine and his mind refused to forget the wolf.

He was screwed.

Stiles had barely managed his quota of files by the time it came to leave at the end of the day. He thought of taking the stairs to the ground floor but it was more than eighteen floors and he opted for the elevator having first peered into the car and made certain it was stranger free. He cut through the underground parking garage as he did every night. He didn't have a car. He had sold his beloved jeep when he came back to New York and there was no way he could even think about his own transport, but the garage was a short cut to the subway and nobody had told him it wasn't allowed. 

He adjusted his backpack and made his way down the single flight of stone steps and into the chilly gloom of the cavernous garage. He heard the squeal of tires from somewhere in the multi level complex but saw no-one else, just row after row of cars. He was chilled and rubbed one hand against his arm and tugged his jacket tighter about his body. He turned toward the guard shack wishing he'd thought to bring an overcoat, it was early Spring but there was a definite nip in the air. Strong fingers suddenly curled around his arm and pulled him into the shadows beside him and a hand covered his mouth before he could cry out. He was dragged back into the relative darkness of a deep alcove which effectively hid him from sight in a quiet part of the garage reserved for motorcycles. Stiles twisted and bucked. His backpack slid to the ground as he struggled in the band of steel arms the held him. A mouth was pressed to his ear and lips moved against the shell.

"I told you I'd see you again soon."

Stiles stilled, stunned by the voice he recognized as belonging to the wolf, familiar, deep and with a sensuous rasp.

A wave of relief crested through Stiles body, followed quickly by irritation and confused anger. Why on earth did he trust him? Frustrated by his own stupidity which belied his upbringing as the son of the sheriff of Beacon Hills his father would be appalled by his lack of self-preservation.

Stiles stomped as hard as he could on the wolf's instep. The wolf grunted, more in amusement than pain and didn't relax his hold, instead he spun them and pushed Stiles face first into the concrete wall and molded his body to his back. He moved his hands and grasped Stiles wrists forcing them against the cold wall.

"You can fight," he murmured , running his lips along the back of Stiles ear, "won't change a thing and I like it."

The wolf's casual dismissal of Stiles attempts to free himself irritated him and he threw his head back , trying to hit him in the face. The wolf ducked of course, a human fighting a werewolf was like a mouse fighting a lion. The wolf chuckled at Stiles abortive attempt and the human tried to stomp on his instep again but was foiled when the wolf's leg and hard thigh pushed between his legs and left him unable to struggle that way. The fingers that cuffed his wrists were softer than manacles but and just as strong and their touch scorched his skin, leaving Stiles no room to struggle.

"Let me go you bastard or I'll start yelling blue murder," Stiles hissed trying to turn his head and see his assailant. It irritated the hell out of him that he felt neither as afraid nor angry as the situation warranted and it prompted instead a tightening in his body and an inappropriate exhilaration. He had to be brain damaged if he thought he could trust the wolf when he didn't even know who he was or the extent of his purpose.

Stiles lent forward and rested his forehead against the hard concrete and inhaled deeply.

For reply the wolf nuzzled the nape of his neck and then buried his nose in his hair and inhaled deeply with a soft contented rumble. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all damned day. I sat through two meetings as hard as rock." His thumbs moved in light circles on his wrists and his body tingled at the tender motion. "How quickly you responded to me. Your smell and taste."

Stiles swallowed around the sudden constriction of his throat and fluttering deep in his channel. No, this wasn't right he wouldn't be seduced so easily again and yet the wolf leaning into him, his hard, hot body pressing against his back was making his head whirl and limbs ache to wrap around him. He cursed the fervor of his body's traitorous reactions. "Let me go. This is wrong. I don't..."

The wolf's lips laid a tender kiss behind Stiles ear in marked counterpoint to the steel grip he maintained on his wrists. Stiles breath hitched, caught in his throat as the wolf's lips and teeth dragged down his neck and his hips flexed and rotated against his ass, his hard member sliding along his butt crease.

The wolf's mouth moved to Stiles other ear. "I would never take you against your will," he spoke with a soft growl in his voice, "you only have to say _no_ and I'll walk away and never bother you again." His warm breath gust against Stiles cheek.

The sudden panic which spiraled through Stiles at the thought of being abandoned by the wolf took him by surprise. The wolf waited for his answer running his lips down his neck and biting through the fabric of his jacket and holding him gently by the shoulder with his teeth.

Stiles was shaking but not with fear or distress. One of the wolf's hands left Stiles wrist and skimmed up the underside of his arm, making him shudder and savor the sensation of his touch. This other hand moved up the back of his thigh, nails raking the skin lightly through the fabric of his pants up to the firm globes of his ass. He gave a growl, both hands squeezing Stiles ass and pulling the cheeks apart and then he pressed forward with the hard bulge of his crotch locked behind his pants. A moan slipped unbidden from Stiles throat and he canted his hips back, using the wall as leverage to get closer.

Stiles was spun around to face the wolf, catching a glimpse of his handsome face as his mouth slanted over Stiles and claimed it in a ferocious kiss, biting at his lower lip and licking inside his mouth, cheeks, roof, palate and then sucking on Stiles tongue and drawing it into his mouth. Stiles hands came up on either side of the wolf's head and his fingers pushed into his satin hair, but the wolf's hands caught his wrists and pulled Stiles arms above his head. His hands were pressed into the rough wall so that Stiles was stretched and held there. The wolf's hard thigh pushed between his legs lifting Stiles higher and he humped and ground himself, rubbed against the hard flesh shamelessly. Ragged moans escaped Stiles as the wolf's mouth moved lower suckling and biting at the sensitive skin of his throat. 

"I want to feel your mouth on me." The wolf said gliding his lips back up Stiles neck and nipping along his jaw. "I want to see you on your knees, that perfect mouth around my cock."

Heat rolled through Stiles body and eager anticipation to taste the wolf for the fist time. This time when he tried to free himself the wolf let him go and took a step back. Stiles squatted down balancing on his heels and reached for his zipper. The wolf helped him and reached inside his silk boxers and drew himself out, his cock hard and the head broad and rosy. Stiles wrapped his hand around the thick root and savored the heavy feel of the cock in his hand. The skin was like velvet and hot to the touch, broader and longer than his own. The thick under vein pulsed against his palm and the wide crest glistened with pre-cum. He flicked out his tongue experimentally and rimmed the head. The wolf tasted clean and his masculine scent was intoxicating and made Stiles head reel. A sharp intake of breath from the wolf and a low whine told Stiles the wolf liked what he was doing. His need was Stiles own and he felt a fresh wave of desire move through his body and pool in his groin. Stiles lips flowed over the head of the wolf's cock and he hollowed his cheeks and sucked deep, drawing up a surge of salty pre-cum which he swiped away with his tongue and swallowed eagerly.

"God!" The wolf shuddered and Stiles pulled him deeper into his mouth, bobbing his head and fisting the root. His tongue rolled around the thick base and flicked up to the tip and then he bobbed deeply his lips gliding over his thick column of flesh. The wolf's hips jerked and flexed in time with Stiles up and down glide, his hand rest on the back of his head not pulling but holding gently. Stiles controlled the pace, undoing the button at the wolf's waist and freeing up more of his pants so that he could get his hand in and weigh and roll his balls with his free hand. The wolf shuddered above him and growled, his cock swelling and jumping in appreciation. Both the wolf's hands grasped his head and fingers dug into his skull pulling Stiles lower, silently demanding more, deeper. Stiles moved his hand from around the root and swallowed as much of him as he could, bobbing and weaving his head and keeping up a steady suction, flicking with his tongue.

Stiles moved one hand to his own throbbing erection trapped in his pants and used the heel of his hand to press and rub against it. Frustrated, he unbuttoned his waist and lowered his zip pushing the fabric of his pants and boxers down as far as he could with a shaking hand and pulled his hard member free.

"Are you touching yourself?" The wolf growled out through gritted teeth.The thrusts into Stiles mouth grew deeper and more frenzied, muffling Stiles own cries and he fisted himself with brutal intensity. The wolf was silent for the most part, the odd whine, growl, grunt and the steady rasp of his deep breaths. He did begin to moan when Stiles swirled his tongue around the sensitive underside of the crown or massaged the tip with the back of his throat.

Part of Stiles brain, a very small part asked what the fuck he thought he was doing, but he tuned it out. For way too long he'd been ignored, even by those he worked with and for _anyone_ to notice or show an interest in him was a big deal let alone someone as gorgeous as the wolf. For the wolf to even notice and approach him in _any_ fashion was the stuff of dreams and he wasn't about to wonder why or worry about what was going to happen next. For now all he wanted was to see and feel. Fingers fisted his hair tightly and his own orgasm raced to meet him even as the wolf's balls tightened and drew up close to his own finale.

Suddenly hands pushed Stiles away, back against the concrete wall making him slide off the wolf's cock with a surprised _pop_. The wolf bent and wrapped his arms around Stiles slender torso and hefted him into the air and slammed him back against the wall, the wolf's hard body settling between his legs. Fear rippled through him and he turned his wide, brown eyes to the wolf's handsome face tight and hard with lust. Stiles pants and boxers had fallen free when the wolf hoisted him into the air and the wolf ordered him to put his legs around his hips.

"Lift your legs and put them around my hips," the wolf growled and Stiles did as he was bidden and crossed his ankles resting against on the curve of the wolf's ass. The wolf held him easily and took half a pace back allowing Stiles shoulders to brace more against the wall. Stiles felt the broad head press against his entrance and held his breath against the pain of being taken un stretched and the only lube on the wolf's impressive member being his saliva and the wolf's pre-cum.

He was going to be split in two.

The wolf pushed forward the broad head pressing relentlessly into Stiles body and he felt the exquisite pain of stretching, protesting muscle and taut skin. He gasped, tears welling in his eyes, he wrapped his arms tightly around the wolf's neck and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Stiles took the fabric of the wolf's jacket between his teeth and bit down to stifle his cries. The head forced its way in maybe an inch or two and the wolf's body vibrated with the effort of holding still as his orgasm crashed over him. The wolf grunted and Stiles felt his hot spurts into his body like thrusts and then the wolf surged up into Stiles with a roar sheathing himself to the hilt on a tide of his own spunk. Stiles keened as pleasure and pain drenched his body and the muscles of his channel flexed and rippled along every inch of the wolf's steely member trying to expel and draw him deeper at the same time. The wolf's lips crushed Stiles in a fierce kiss, swallowing his mewling cries as he began to move and pound Stiles into the wall behind him.

Stiles orgasm which had fled on a wave of fear, rocketed to the surface and his scream was caught in the wolf's mouth as he came hard. Waves of pleasure rolled through his body cresting and dipping as the wolf pounded on. Stiles raked his fingernails over the jacket and arms of the stranger's suit, kissing him wildly and nipping at his lips. Stiles brought out a wildness in the wolf, he pulled his mouth from Stiles and bit down onto Stiles shoulder with his teeth. Stiles cries still echoed off the walls of the alcove. The wolf gasped against his shoulder and grunted giving one, two deep thrusts and he came emptying his load high inside Stiles and then rubbing out the last of his orgasm and finally he pulled out. Stiles was amazed to see he was still semi hard and capable of taking him again with a little encouragement.

Sandwiched between the wolf's hot body and the cold, hard concrete Stiles began to notice he was naked from the waist down and the wolf's pants and boxers were around his knees. His legs slid from the wolf's hips.

It was damn chilly.

Distantly a car horn blared and there was the sound of cars moving toward the exit of the garage serving to give him a wake up call and alert him to what he had allowed to happen. He pressed feebly against the wolf's shoulders his body still limp and boneless from his orgasm.

The stranger stepped back, still supporting Stiles weight with large hands beneath his ass and then slowly lowered him to the ground, continuing to support him when he wobbled. The wolf stooped and scooped up Stiles clothes and handed them to him. Stiles gripped the wolf's arm for support as he pulled on his pants, first one leg and then the other going commando and pushing his boxers into his jacket pocket. The wolf set himself to rights, looking calm and immaculate whereas Stiles body trembled with the enormity of what he had done. 

The wolf helped Stiles straighten his clothes.

"Let me take you home."

The moment Stiles heard the wolf's words he shook his head and stepped away from him. He burned with shame and couldn't bear to look at him let alone be in the confines of a car with him. "I have to take the subway home."

The wolf slipped two fingers under his chin and lifted his head so Stiles was looking into his face. Even riding the elevator with him Monday thru Friday Stiles had never realized how handsome the stranger really was and the sight stole his breath. His eyes were softer than might appear at first and framed like his own with long, dark lashes and his hair tousled from Stiles fingers, fell across his brow. The prickle of stubble on his chin completed a perfect picture. His stern expression didn't match the concern in his eyes. "Please," he said softly.

Stiles body yearned for the wolf's touch, he wanted to rub his cheek cat-like against his stubble and feel the rasp of whiskers setting his nerves aflame. Tears pricked behind his eyes. Was he really that pathetic? He took another step back and cleared his throat and forced himself to look the wolf in the eyes. "I need to catch the train." He held his head high, even though he wanted to crawl away in shame, turned and walked quickly out of the alcove.

Behind him a bemused smile flickered across the wolf's lips and it seemed for a moment a look of approval. "Don't you want this?" He called.

Stiles pivoted and saw the wolf holding his backpack out to him. He walked back and plucked it from his hand and jerked it onto his shoulder. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Stiles turned away and began to walk.

The air was chilly and Stiles knew he must look a mess as he walked briskly toward the exit from the underground garage. He needed to find a bathroom and ascertain how bad he really looked. He heard a car draw up some way behind him and against his better judgement, turned to look. A long, black, shiny limousine had pulled up, a gray uniformed chauffeur complete with peaked cap got out and opened the rear door and the stranger ducked inside. Stiles stood there staring like an idiot as the car drove past him and toward the exit. The windows were heavily tinted so it was impossible to see the interior. He watched as his erstwhile ride pulled past the guard shack and moved to the exit and turned out into the flow of traffic.

Two thoughts struck him: 

_Who the fuck was the wolf?_

And what the hell was HE doing with his life letting strangers fuck him in underground garages?

oo00oo

By the next day Stiles had made up his mind if he was going to continue to work at Triple H Holdings (and he seriously needed the job) he had to avoid running into the stranger ever again. He arrived at work half an hour early dressed in his best suit the one he'd bought for his dad's funeral, having dropped the other one he owned at the dry cleaners. He staked out the elevators and made certain there was no sign of the wolf before dashing forward and into the first available stranger-free car.

It was a successful tactic and one he marked for future use.

At that time of the morning about a quarter of the staff were present and he reached his cubicle avoiding all unwanted confrontations. Nobody spoke to him or even acknowledged his presence.

He had spent most of the previous evening closeted in his room trying to figure out if he should go into work the next morning, what his chances were of getting a new job (slim to zero) and what were the chances of anyone finding out about his reckless, embarrassing and downright stupid actions. It was so unlike him that he had begun to question his sanity. 

A desperate libido was not an excuse or even reasonable explanation.

He'd started to search for new job opportunities, something he could to if his present job went south. The proper, decent part of his brain demanded he quit his job, the logical, smart portion reminded him he needed this job. His bills and rent were due and he had no savings to tide him over until something else came along.

Look how far he'd fallen.

Once at his desk he avoided logging onto his computer straight away. It was still too early and might draw unwanted attention to him. Over the next half hour his coworkers arrived chatting among themselves as they passed by his cubicle, he stayed in the corner and kept his head down. He remained in the same position for much of the day and was content to be ignored. The day slid by uneventfully until almost four in the afternoon when his supervisor poked her strawberry blonde head into his cubicle. "Please follow me Mr Stilinski and bring any personal belongings."

Ms Martin's appearance startled him and his heart sped up. He saw her every day, but after his initial interview and cubicle assignment, she had all but ignored him. That she chose now to talk to him had his world tilting on its axis and stomach curled into knots. Her tone brooked no argument and Stiles pushed to his feet, stooped and hefted up his backpack from where it sat on the floor next to his chair and slipped the strap on his shoulder and followed her in wake with a deferential "Yes ma'am."

When she bypassed her office door and strode out of the office into the hallway Stiles stomach roiled. He followed her in silence much as a man going to the gallows, afraid to ask what it was about for fear he wouldn't like the answer. His sexcapades the previous day had been caught on security camera and were the talk of the entire building, they might even have found their way onto You Tube by now. He was going to face some sort of discipline...sexual harassment in the workplace? Did getting the same elevator car everyday as the stranger count as _stalking_? He couldn't think of any other reason why he would be escorted out of his section, certainly not to fire him.

They caught the elevator at the end of the corridor and rode the deserted car in silence up to what Stiles thought must be the top of the building, the executive levels. His apprehension and anxiety grew the higher they went. His supervisor never once spoke to him and was impossible to read- not that he tried too hard, that stuff was personal and he was afraid of what he might find.

When the doors of the car swished back Stiles could well believe he was in an entirely different building. Gone was the lifeless, narrow corridor to be replaced with a wide passage with thick dove gray carpeting and dark wood paneled walls with the words ' ** _TRIPLE H HOLDINGS ___**' inscribed in bold gold lettering across the wood. The passage led toward a reception area at the entrance to a large room with comfortable gray leather seating, conversational tables and potted plants. The large brown wooden reception desk complete with computer terminal was manned by a pretty blonde. Oak office doors lined the walls and two glass encased conference rooms sat at either corner of the room. Everything had an elegant old world charm and opulence that melded seamlessly with modern recessed lighting, artwork on the walls and state-of-the-art technology. Ms Martin approached the reception desk. "Ms Martin from Data Handling with Mr Stilinski. Mr Hale is expecting us."

The receptionist consulted her computer screen and nodded. "Please go ahead." She picked up the phone as Ms Martin and Stiles walked passed.

Stiles step faltered at her words, his legs suddenly weak. Why the hell did Hale want to see him? It couldn't be good and he wished he'd read up on the werewolves who owned the company. His was a temporary job, a short-term gig and his contract renewed weekly. For the last four weeks renewal had been automatic, this was his fifth week. Did Hale know what he'd done?

Stiles anxiety ratcheted up to unbearable levels as confusion and trepidation spiraled inside him. He followed his supervisor cautiously as she headed toward one of the office doors, knocked and pushed it open.

"Mr Stilinski Sir."

She stepped aside and motioned for Stiles to enter the office.

He stood rooted to the spot staring dumbly at Ms Martin for a moment and then slowly moved in front of her. Stiles gave her a confused glance as he moved deeper into the office and then a feeling of doom and horror washed over him. Oh. My. God, no!

"Thank you Ms Martin, that will be all."

With a brisk wag of her head, Ms Martin stepped out of the office closing the door behind her. Stiles stood aghast in the large office and stared, his mouth opening dumbly as he blinked at the familiar figure behind the impressive desk. His eyes lowered to the nameplate on the desk ' _Derek Hale CEO._

"You," Stiles said, his body numb with shock.

The dark-haired wolf behind the desk raised his cool eyes. "Me." The wolf answered with too much obvious amusement at Stiles discomfort. "Mr Stilisinski. Please take a seat." He gestured to a comfortable chair set directly in front of his desk.

Stiles heart sped up and his scalp prickled at the sound of his voice with the inherent sexy rasp. Unable to speak or disobey the command he moved toward the chair hesitantly on shaky legs and sat down lowering his arm and letting his backpack slide down and settle on the floor beside his seat. The wolf ignored him and turned his attention to the tablet in his hand. As they sat in silence the tension mounted and to distract himself Stiles looked around the large space. Behind the CEOs desk the wall consisted of a floor the ceiling window with a panoramic view of Manhattan glimpsed through the vertical blind. The desk was heavy, dark wood covered sparsely with a large screen, state-of-the-art laptop, the nameplate and Newton's cradle, the steel balls shiny and still. The chair the wolf sat in was deeply padded black leather, the kind that reclined at several angles with castors on the bottom.

"Mr Stiles Stilinski," Hale's eyes flicked up and the sound of his voice startled Stiles as much as his intense gaze. "Currently employed as a temporary data entry clerk in the Data Handling division out of the Executive Management Employment Agency, hired one month ago by Ms Lydia Martin." He arched a dark eyebrow. "Correct so far?" At Stiles brisk nod he continued. " I see you used your passport as identification." His second eyebrow joined the first. "Passport?"

Stiles swallowed, talking suddenly difficult with his dry mouth. "I always carry them with me."

Hale's eyebrows rose a fraction more, his expression both curious and probing. . "Them? You possess more than one?"

"Yes, I was born in Warsaw and came to America with my parents before I was six months old. I have dual citizenship and two passports."

There was a moment of silence, the void filled with Stiles rapid breathing before the wolf resumed speaking. "It says here you're twenty two and grew up in a place called Beacon Hills." He lifted his eyes questioningly. "I'm sorry I don't know where that is."

"A small town about a hundred miles from Sacramento." Stiles replied.

Hale nodded before resuming. "You attended Columbia University, pre-law for just over a year before suddenly dropping out and returning to Beacon Hills. Menial jobs since then and you moved back to New Jersey four months ago. " He raised his head. "You seem an intelligent, hardworking young man. Why did you drop out?"

Stiles shifted uncomfortably in the chair as the resume of the last three years of his life was coldly laid before him. It pierced him to the core and the wolf's question sailed over his head. A lengthy pause made him look up and note Hale watching him expectedly. "What?" I mean..." He cursed inwardly for not paying more attention.

"I asked you why you dropped out of Columbia, Mr Stilinski. " The wolf repeated his question with a note of impatience.

Hale wanted an answer but it dredged up unhappy memories of the past and was intensely personal and painful. "My father passed away suddenly from a heart attack. There was only him and me, my mother passed away when I was nine," Stiles mumbled quietly in reply. He studied his clasped hands. What would his father think of him now? He had sacrificed so much to send Stiles to Columbia, Stiles hadn't realized how much.

There was a lengthy pause and then the wolf spoke. "I am sorry for your loss."

"I returned to Beacon Hills to sort things out." Stiles studied his hands as if they were suddenly the most important things in the world. "I never questioned where my dad got the money to send me to Colombia," he shifted his weight, "turned out I should have done. Two mortgages on the house, arrears, a mountain of unpaid bills, debts and loans. His Medical Insurance paid the hospital and the bills, debts, loans swallowed his Life Insurance. For over two years I struggled to save the house, taking every job I could get, at one point I was holding down three and surviving on four hours sleep a night." He wasn't moaning or asking for sympathy just explaining to someone who had probably never gotten his hands dirty in his life. "Finally I gave up, sold the contents of the house, my jeep and gave the keys to the bank. The last thing tying me to Beacon Hills was gone." 

Stiles blamed himself for not asking, for not seeing how his dad had struggled, but to be fair John Stilinski had been a proud man and very good at keeping the truth from his son.

"Why New York?"

Stiles eyes drifted up and he shrugged. "I'd always dreamed about living in New York, that's why I was so stoked when I got into Colombia. I figured I could make it here as easily in Beacon Hills...or not."

"You've never considered going back to resume your studies?"

Was he mad? Of course he'd considered it, but he was still paying off his first round of student loans and struggling to make the rent and eat. "I still have debts from the first time I tried and what with the cost of living near the city and even the rent on a shared apartment in New Jersey..." His voice trailed away, he sounded pathetic and what did someone like Hale want to know about him for anyway?

"I see," Derek cupped his chin and thoughtfully drew his index finger over his lower lip, caressing it. Stiles eyes trailed the movement and his body heated as he remembered the feel of those lips on his skin and against his own lips. "Do you know why I asked to see you Mr Stilinski?"

Stiles tensed and heart stuttered at the question he dreaded hearing. "No." He whispered.

Hale opened his mouth to speak, paused and then tried again. "Let me tell you how your day would have progressed prior to our meeting." He paused making sure he had Stiles attention. "You would have arrived at work as usual and worked until half an hour before the end of the day. Ms Martin would have collected you from your cubicle and taken you into her office. She would have explained that your contact was terminated but that you would be paid in full to the end of the week. You'd have been given your last paycheck and escorted from the building."

The bottom fell out of Stiles world.

"You brought me here to fire me in person?" Stiles queried in a faint whisper. A sudden anger bubbled up inside him and his expression became grim. "This is so unfair, is it because of what happen...

Hale held up his hand silencing him. "It has nothing to do with you. The decision was taken months ago to use the renovation of the building to close the Data Handling division and farm the work out to a specialized company. More efficient and cost effective. The permanent workers are being redeployed within the company and the contracts of the temporary workers including yourself, terminated." His eyes narrowed. "I signed the directive last week before I knew who you were."

Stiles slumped in his chair. "Nobody's hiring right now." He said almost to himself. Another blow to weather on top of so many.

"I decided to look up your file after you told me your name. Your work here has been exemplary and we would give you an excellent recommendation for any future job inquiries. "

Stiles was at a loss for words, unable to think or what to say. "Why bother to tell me? Why bother to bring me up here?" Was Hale expecting him to thank him? Was he being intentionally cruel?

"Because I have another position if you interested. I find myself in need of a Personal Assistant."

Stiles blinked several times not sure if he'd heard correctly. He peered into the wolf's face but he remained unfathomable. Life had taught him that things too good to be true, generally were and suspicion uncurled in his belly. "I know nothing about being a Personal Assistant. What would I have to do?" He asked warily.

Hale made a vague gesture. "Anything I want. When, where and how I want you to."

Stiles inhaled deeply trying to steady his racing heart and inflate his lungs . His mind careered away taking him to all kinds of scenarios that answer conjured up. Surely he didn't mean... But supposing he did? He couldn't be implying what Stiles imagined he was implying? There again the wolf's relaxed demeanor and wicked glint in his eyes suggested he was implying exactly what Stiles imagined. He didn't know if to be furious or flattered, was it a nightmare or all his wildest dreams come true? He needed to be sure... "What kind of _things_?"

"Everything from collecting my dry cleaning, booking theater tickets," he paused and his eyes heated, "to more _personal_ services," he said with a wicked smile.

"More like yesterday when we..." Stiles felt his cheeks heat and desire roll through his body causing his buttocks to clench.

Derek leaned forward and rest his elbows on his desk. "Yes."

That single word answered all Stiles questions and ignited the blood in his veins. Derek's voice held such sensuous, sinful promise. He tried to be indignant, outraged, to find some way to protest but he was to swept away by the erotic scenario and the practicality of the very indecent proposal.

Stiles desperately needed a job. Hale was offering him one. And it wasn't as if being fucked by the gorgeous wolf was exactly a hardship.

That didn't mean Stiles was just going to roll over, he wasn't _that_ stupid. Time to pull up his big boy panties. He straightened in the chair and inclined forward. "Exactly what are you offering?" He couldn't believe he was actually considering the offer the moment the words left his lips. 

A slow smile quirked the corner of the wolf's mouth. "Full benefits, medical, dental and a company car, all travel expenses, a clothing allowance and personal grooming expenses. "He pulled off a Post-it note and wrote on it as he continued to speak. "You'll make yourself available 24/7, you'll enter into no personal relationships of a sexual nature for the duration on your employment and you'll travel and live with me when I require you to. I have neither the time nor inclination to indulge in personal relationships," he raised his head, "but attend many social functions from charity galas and red carpet events to business dinners. I find them less tedious and boring if I have an escort, if you accept the position that will be you. This should be sufficient for a starting salary."

He held the Post-it out to Stiles and he plucked it from Hale's fingers and his eyes lowered to it. The figure written there made him feel dizzy. He could clear his student loans and debts within three months. In less than a year he would have more than enough money to set himself up, lease a decent apartment in Brooklyn or Queens and go back to Columbia and complete his degree. Stiles jaw slackened and his eyes swept up to Hale's face as unfathomable as ever."Are you serious?" He gestured with the Post-it as he spoke.

"I never joke about either money or business." Derek replied grimly.

Stiles eyes lowered to the figure in his hand and a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his dad screamed at him to _RUN_! He sat in silence, he was so tired of struggling and not getting anywhere. The cautious side of his brain made a last ditch attempt at self-preservation. "I want it in writing, a contract, a legal document."

Something told Stiles that was no more than Hale expected. "Naturally," the corners of his eyes crinkled, the only sign of humor in an otherwise handsome, fathomless face. "But first I need to further assess your suitability for this position. He leaned forward and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. "Stand up and strip."

oo00oo

Stiles froze, his heart hammering against his ribs and the words, _'Anything I want'_ ricocheting around inside his head. The wolf's stare was pitiless but patient as he waited for Stiles to surrender and comply with his wishes. Several long moments passed as Stiles fought an internal moral and logical battle and lost. He bent and slipped off his shoes and socks and then rose shakily to his feet and began to slowly remove his clothes and lay them across the back of the chair he had previously occupied.

Hale's gaze never faltered, hungry, hot and hooded his eyes devoured stiles pale and slender body as it was revealed to him, inch by inch. Creamy, mole speckled skin and long, lean muscles. 

Stiles shrugged off his jacket and lay it over the back of the chair. He pulled his shirt from his pants, loosened and removed his tie, laying it on top of his jacket. His shaking fingers fumbled as they undid the top buttons of his shirt so that he could pull it up and over his head and toss it across his jacket. His skin prickled and the fine hairs on his body and nape stood up as he felt the wolf's eyes rake over him and sear his skin. Hale never moved a muscle, his face remained impassive granite but his gaze blazed as Stiles nipples puckered to hard, rosy points and his hands hesitated at the buttoned waist if his pants. The atmosphere in the office grew heavy and filled with electric anticipation that nipped at Stiles skin. Hale remained frozen, he never even blinked as he waited, his lips slightly parted. The tension between them stretched as taut as a rubber band and Stiles pink tongue flicked out and swiped his dry, lower lip.

Stiles lifted his chin, his insides melting with anticipation and desire, his body igniting and a rolling warmth moving up his body from his toes. He flicked open the button at his waist and the wolf stopped breathing. Slowly Stiles lowered the zip of his fly and the hard bulge of his cock was visible through the V of his pants, held back behind the tented fabric of his white boxers. He hooked his thumbs in the top of his pants and boxers and pushed them down over his slender hips and they skimmed down his thighs and legs of their own volition, pooling around his ankles.

Stiles cock bobbed under it's own weight as it was freed from its confines and the wolf's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply the scent of need and arousal. Stiles cupped his groin self-consciously and ducked his head, cheeks taking on the rosy hue of embarrassment.

"Put your hands behind your back and keep them there until I instruct you otherwise." Hale rasped huskily. 

Stiles eyes lifted to Hale's, black buttons of lust. Fear and excitement twisted through his body and he stifled a moan at the bite of command in the wolf's voice and his unexpected reaction to it. He hesitated and then moved his hands and clasped his wrist one hand to the other in the small of his back.

For a long moment the wolf never moved content to savor the feast before him, the sight of Stiles naked for the fist time. His cock, paler, slimmer and perhaps an inch shorter than his own, the pink head bobbing in synchronization with Stiles deep breaths from a tangle of dark, silky curls at his groin. His balls tight against his body, his sharp boned hips, slim, strong thighs and shapely legs. Hale lifted his eyes to Stiles chest taking in the dusky pink nipples their nubs hardened to dagger points, the width of his shoulders and sweet face. His mouth went dry and a soft rumble escaped his chest.

Stiles watched nervously as Derek pushed to his feet and rounded the desk. "Stay like this until I tell you to move again. How many words can you type a minute?" His inquiry was casual but his voice had a strained, husky timbre to it.

Stiles was surprised by the non sequitur question and answered automatically, "Eighty."

"What strengths do you bring to this position?"

Hale disappeared behind him, unnerving him and breaking Stiles concentration. He could turn his head and see him but he'd been told not to move. A shiver rolled through his body as he kept facing forward, his eyes glued to the desk in front of him as he swallowed and answered the common interview questions. "Attention to detail, a willingness to work hard and a dedication to get the job done."

The wolf chuckled behind him. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Stiles started to reply but was startled by a warm hand sliding up his thigh and caressing his ass before pulling away. "Stiles?"

How was he supposed to answer questions when his body was swamped by salacious sensations at the wolf's touch? He swallowed a moan and drew in a ragged breath before answering in a breathy voice. "Finishing law school or in a job I love."

That got a non committal "Hmmm," from behind him. 

Stiles desire ratcheted up a notch, his pulse rate and temperature spiked as his nerve endings sizzled and sparked with anticipation and remembered past encounters with Hale. He closed his eyes and tried to keep himself under control, but just like in the elevator, one touch and he was lost his body craving the wolf's touch.

"And what would you consider your _dream_ job?"

There was a _snick_ from behind him and before he could answer slick, thick fingers slid between the crease of his ass and a moan escaped his throat as they caressed his opening with a feather touch. Stiles hips flexed and canted back seeking more contact, but again the touch disappeared. He bit back a groan of disappointment and remembered the question. " Someplace where I can make a difference and help people."

"Good answer," Hale sounded amused but his hand was back, probing fingers pressing at the puckered entrance to Stiles body turning him into writhing mess.

"Step sideways out of your clothes."

Stiles took a step to the side, his hands still locked behind his back and kicked his pants and boxers away. The fingers of one hand grasped the back of his neck in a firm but not tight grip.

"Lay across the desk and grasp the far side, don't let go until I tell you." Hale bit out.

Dubiously Stiles looked at the desk. He could still say _'no'_ , there was nothing in writing, he hadn't _signed_ anything, it wasn't too late. His body was suffused with raw desire and he made his choice, unlocking his wrists and bending forward, he stretched his arms across the desk and grasped the far edges firmly his cheek laid against the shiny wood.

Hale's hand left his neck and caressed down Stiles back and stopped to squeeze one cheek of his ass. "Spread your legs."

Stiles did as he was told but it wasn't enough and Hale nudged his legs wider with a shoe at his ankle. Slick fingers probed harder between his buttocks and he shivered as fingers slid down beneath and weighed and rolled his balls. "Wolves neither carry nor catch disease, the door is locked and the office soundproof. You may make as much noise as you like."

Stiles body trembled at the lascivious implication. He moaned as the wolf's fingers circled his entrance and his other hand skimmed down his back tracing the bumps of his spine and drifted over his hip, moving in circles across his fluttering belly and down through his silky pubic hair and encircled his cock and began a languid up and down glide. Up and down, up and down, round and around, the veins in Stiles cock throbbed with every beat of his heart against the wolf's palm. His hips swayed back and forth, pushing into the tunnel of Derek's hand and back onto his circling fingers, merely exploring. Sensations ebbed and flowed through Stiles body and sweat misted his skin. 

Hale leaned over Stiles back, the buttons of his jacket pressing against his spine, his lips pressed to Stiles ear. "Would you like me to make you come?" His breath warm and moist against the shell .

Stiles nodded vigorously, Hale's touch making his breath catch and soliciting a whine from in his throat.

Derek chuckled. "You'll have to work for it...are you willing to do that?" He rasped in a voice like silken oak.

Before he could reply something bigger than Hale's finger pressed inside his entrance making Stiles keen and surge forward, the desk preventing any escape from the burn of stretching muscle and foreign invasion. Stiles body trembled, trapped between the twin sensations of Hale's hand stroking his cock and his thumb pressed up to the knuckle in his rear opening. His body fought to puzzle out the twin sensations that rocked his body and had his breath coming in ragged pants. Hale leaned close molding his body to Stiles trapped beneath him. "Such a tight little hole."

Stiles moaned helplessly trapped between the hard desk and Hale's muscular body. The hand on his cock tightened and the wolf's thumb twisted and kneaded at the circle of tissue that guarded the entrance to his body, stretching and softening, making his body jerk and hips tilt back into his hand. A deep, sexy laugh rolled over Stiles making his skin tingle. The hand on his cock sped up and his thumb pulled out . Stiles keened at the loss and then gasped as three fingers pushed into him and began to fuck him hard, finding places within his channel that made him shake and buck against the wolf and see sparks of light behind his eyes.

Hale's hand left Stiles cock and the sound of his zipper being lowered sounded loud and harsh in the room. A deep groan was pulled from him as Hale freed his pulsing, hard, column of flesh. The wolf's hips rolled against Stiles ass and he slid his hard member up and down Stiles crack beside his pumping fingers. Stiles grip on the edge of the desk became white knuckled and his cries keening wails, sensations and urgency making his body tighten and soar upward.

"You'll come when I say and only when I say." Derek growled.

Stiles whined in protest and Hale's hands fell away and he took a step back. The sudden absence of his touch and empty feeling was like a bucket of cold water - an unwelcome interruption and Stiles no doubt felt a punishment for his protest. Then to his delight the wolf gave a sway of his hips and his hard shaft slid between the cheeks of his ass and a hand clamped the back of his neck. Derek didn't push inside but slid his cock up and down Stiles slick crack.

"Please," Stiles moaned lifting his hips in invitation.

"Please what?"

The wolf's voice held amusement and although he couldn't see his face Stiles knew he was smirking.

"Please Sir, fuck me." Stiles pleaded.

"Is that what you want? That gorgeous ass of yours spread wide so that you can take me? Should I ride you hard and make you come from my cock alone, pounding deep?"

Derek's husky rasp at his ear was as sinfully sexy as the devil's own and could melt stone. His hand slid from the root of Stiles cock to the tip and everything rushed back, sensations agonizingly clear, Stiles was so close it wouldn't take much...

Hands spread his cheeks and Stiles felt the nudge of Hale's bulbous tip at his puckered opening and he slammed inside. Stiles let out a keening cry as he was stretched and filled to bearing, sobbing at the exquisite agony of pleasure filled pain that ricocheted pin balling through his body and was a welcome relief. Hale curled one hand tightly around Stiles hip and the other around the back of his neck and wasted little time in picking up a punishing tempo as Stiles body fought to accommodate him.

Within a minute the wolf was sliding in and out, back and forth his hips rolling and flexing in a steady rhythm, pulling Stiles back as he thrust forward impaling him on his cock. Stiles moans and keening cries echoed off the walls and furniture in the room.

Hale's thrusts grew more forceful, repeatedly banging and bruising Stiles thighs against the desk. The wolf made little noise beyond grunting with each thrust and the occasional rumbling growl of satisfaction. If Stiles could have seen his face he would have seen a look of raw need and feral lust, ruby eyes and lips pulled back revealing sharp fangs, his mouth open in muted gasps, one powerful arm stretched, the hand grasping Stiles nape and the fingers of his other hand buried in the soft flesh of his hip in a bruising grip.

Very quickly it became all about blistering sensations bombarding Stiles body, climbing toward the explosion of tension he so desperately sought. Hale was pounding into him now, plunging into him, slamming him into the table in a mindless chase after his own release.

The desk for all the abuse, remained steady beneath them.

"Please I can't stop, please!" Stiles wailed as he felt the familiar stiffening of his limbs and lightening strike down his spine. Fingers bit into his hip and Hale's hand slithered around his neck to his throat and began to squeeze. The sound of his blood pounded in Stiles ears and he struggled for breath, Hale made guttural and inhuman sounds behind him, his strokes increasing and powerful. Stiles began to feel light headed, his lungs burned for want of oxygen.

"Next time do what I ask without hesitation or there will be consequences." Hale growled a warning in Stiles ear , his grip on his throat eased and teeth grazed down his neck and ran over the line of his shoulder. Stiles sucked air into his lungs. Hale continued to pound into him, "Come then, I want to feel you tighten around me."

There was no way Stiles could have stopped himself, his orgasm crashed over him in a wave of light, Derek's thrusts hitting places inside him that had him wailing, his cock jerking and spewing his release in an opalescent arc. On and on his orgasm rolled as his body shook and his channel rippled and squeezed Hale's hard cock inside him. Stiles grasped the table in a vise-like grip. Derek gave a hoarse cry and jerked over Stiles , gave a couple of hard thrusts that lift Stiles feet off the floor and held himself deep as he spurted into him with a force that felt like additional thrusts. He rubbed out the last of his orgasm and let Stiles contractions milk him dry.

Hale slumped over Stiles back and they were both still, their labored breathing the only noise in the room. They lay still for several moments as their thundering hearts steadied. Derek rest his forehead between Stiles shoulder blades, finally pushing himself up and pulling out. He ran his hand down Stiles back and drew his hand back and delivered a ringing slap to one butt cheek hard enough to leave a red mark on the pale flesh. Stiles jerked and yelped. 

"You can let go of the table now."

That was easier said than done. Stiles fingers were stiff and difficult to free. He tilted himself upright giving Hale a baleful glance, still feeing the echo of his powerful strokes through his body. He lent his hip against the desk for support and worked his fingers to bring back the feeling in them. He watched Derek tuck himself away and rearrange his clothing.

The wolf stooped and gathered up Stiles pants and boxers and stepped up to him, he lent in and pressed his lips to Stiles forehead and then moved back and held his clothes out to him. "Take your things and there's a bathroom through there." He nodded to a wood paneled wall at one end of the room and a concealed door. "You should find everything you need, get cleaned up."

Stiles eyes followed his nod and then turned back and lifted his clothes from Derek's hand with a tentative smile and gathered up the rest of his clothes from the back of the chair and his shoes and socks.

"That wraps up this interview and by the way, your hired."

Hale watched him impassively as Stiles walked shakily in the direction of the bathroom.

 

Sometime later Stiles emerged from the well appointed bathroom, his hair still damp from his quick shower and fully clothed. Derek lounged loose limbed in the chair behind his desk looking impeccable and as though nothing at all had happened, a crystal tumbler of tawny liquid in his hand and the expression of a well fucked male on his face. Another tumbler of the tawny liquid was set at the leading edge of the desk, obviously for Stiles.

"Sit down, have a drink. You look as though you need it." He gestured casually to the chair in front of his desk.

Stiles moved forward putting one foot in front of the other and sank down into the chair, he leaned forward and reached for the glass. "Thanks," he mumbled. His fingers curled around the tumbler and he carried the glass under his nose and sniffed warily. Brandy, the good stuff too rich and mellow. His eyes flicked up to Hale watching him with the same studied expression a cat watches a mouse. Stiles wasn't much of a drinker just the occasional beer and the brandy burned as it slithered down his throat. "W - when do I start," he faltered over the rim of his glass.

Hale tossed back the remainder of the brandy in his glass and Stiles watched the bob of his Adam's apple and then his eyes trailed his hand as the wolf set his glass down on his desk, Hale lent forward.

"Immediately."

Stiles tried to feel shame, outrage at the fact Hale was taking advantage of his circumstances but all he felt was a sense of relief and security.

"I made the arrangements while you were taking a shower."

Stiles brow furrowed. "Arrangements for what?"

Derek raised one of his expressive eyebrows. "You said you always carry your passport with you, correct?"

"Mmm - yes I do," he remembered putting it in his inside jacket pocket when he swapped suits.

Hale nodded, "Excellent. Then you'll come with me tonight and serve as my escort."

Stiles took another sip of brandy certain that there was some important step he'd missed. "Escort, where?" His voice indicated his confusion.

"I have a a gala to attend in my honor in Paris tomorrow evening, we leave within an hour."

oo00oo

Stiles felt naked without his backpack, true it only contained his lunchbox and a few odds and ends of little importance and almost no value, but still... Limousines were a great deal roomier than he remembered. Of course he'd only been in one once, the night of his high school prom when he and a group of friends had clubbed together and hired one... That was a night best forgotten.

He sneaked a surreptitious glance at the handsome wolf sitting across from him in the back of the limo from under his lashes. Hale ignored him completely, focused entirely on the tablet in his lap and leaving him to his own devices. His mind was reeling from the day's events and he found it hard to believe he was on his way to Paris.

The last two days were like a hazy dream and Stiles was certain that at any moment he would wake up and discover it had all in fact been a dream, and he was still living his exhausting, dreary hand to mouth existence. Someone like Derek Hale, handsome, wealthy, a werewolf businessman with a multi national company worth billions couldn't possibly be interested in someone like him. It still hadn't percolated through the layers of his brain that he was heading to the airport to fly with him to Paris as his PA and was to receive a contract of employment whose job description revolved around the phase, ' _Anything I want.'_

This ranked number one in the most mind boggling days of his life.

Stiles looked out of the tinted window at the tangle of vehicles and pedestrians that was Manhattan rush-hour traffic and allowed his mind to drift so that he didn't pay much attention to their route. It wasn't until they left Manhattan and the traffic thinned and he realized that they weren't headed for JFK but heading in the general direction of the New Jersey Meadowlands, why? 

When the limo began passing planes behind a tall fence and a tangle of runways Stiles realized they had reached Teterboro airport about twelve miles from Midtown Manhattan. Much smaller than it's New York counterpart and with a weight restriction of 100,000 pounds it was nonviable for use as a commercial airport and was home to the private aircraft of the very rich, corporate aircraft, aviation companies and charter flights. Stiles had never flown through there so the sight of a smaller airport was new.

Well he supposed _very rich_ applied to Derek Hale. The thought sent sudden chills up Stiles spine and he shivered. Oh. My. God... What had he gotten himself into? "Are you sure I won't need clothes?" The question just popped into Stiles head and was out of his mouth before he had time to process it as they pulled into the airport terminal. Derek had insisted he leave his backpack in the office and that he needed nothing but his passport and the clothes he stood up in.

Derek lifted his head. "I told you, everything will be provided for you, it's part of your contract." Derek assured him.

That was the wolf's standard answer anytime he asked anything about his employment. At this rate his contract would be longer than Tolkien's ' _Lord Of The Rings_ and the flippant thought did nothing to quell his nerves. He hadn't signed anything yet and he could still leave and look for other employment.

Yeah, right.

Hale's face was fathomless, his gaze intense and shrewd and made Stiles think he could read his mind. Frustrated by Hale's easy dominance of him and the situation Stiles refused to look away first and let the wolf see his nerves and indecision.

Their staring contest was ended when they drove straight onto the tarmac and the chauffeur opened the car door. They were drawn up at the foot of steps up to a private jet aircraft. Hale gestured that Stiles should get out the car first. He climbed out past the wolf and caught the look of humor on his face as he passed. _So Hale liked conflict_ , good because Stiles had no intention of crawling or begging for respect.

An image popped into Stiles head of him on his knees in the parking garage looking up at the wolf and his belly fluttered.

Aww fuck. Who was he kidding?

The aircraft towered above them, long, sleek and very white yet a good deal smaller than anything Stiles had ever flown in. There were six square windows along the fuselage and the words ' **TRIPLE H HOLDINGS'** written in bold, black letters underneath. They mounted the steps and were met at the door of the aircraft by the pilot in a smart uniform and peaked cap. He shook Hale's hand and hoped he'd have a pleasant flight.

Stiles was not introduced.

The pilot ushered them to their seats. The interior was elegant and expensive with leather seats in pale blue, twice as wide as anything Stiles had seen and fully reclining with a table between them . They had just made themselves comfortable with Hale sitting opposite Stiles when an older, uniformed gentleman came onboard. He gave a perfunctory check of their passports, wished them a safe flight and left, the pilot closing and securing the door behind him and then retreating to the flight deck.

Impressed and curious Stiles amused himself playing with the gadgetry and impliments attached to his seat. He had just discovered his own private telephone hidden in one of the thick armrests when a thin tablet slid onto the table in front of him. It was the same one he'd seen Hale using in the back of the limo. His eyes lifted to Hale's face. "What's this?" He asked curiously.

"I drew up your contract in back of the limo and you need to sign it before the aircraft can take off."

For the first time Stiles registered the lack of engine noise. His eyes lowered to the tablet and he blinked.

"You knew this was coming." Derek coaxed his voice smooth and alluring.

"No kidding." The sarcastic tone of Stiles reply made Hale's eyebrow lift. 

"If you wish to leave, my car is waiting to take you home." Stiles glanced out of the window and saw the limo still parked on the tarmac. "Your employment will of course be terminated." Hale added smoothly. "The choice is yours." Stiles turned back trying to read Derek's fathomless face. "Time to make up your mind Stiles." Hale added in a voice like sin. Hale pulled the silver stylus from the inside pocket of his jacket and held it out to him.

Stiles snatched it from his fingers almost annoyed by the feeling he was being invited to sign his life away.He clenched the stylus in his hand and reached for the tablet. He wasn't so stupid as to sign something this important without reading it first.

The tangle of legalese would have done justice to a fist rate lawyer and the thought that this wasn't the first time Derek had drafted such a document had an unexpected wave of jealousy move through Stiles. He was glad of his year of pre-law and deciphered the document.

It was actually pretty straight forward and as Hale had outlined in his office. He was employed in the position of Personal Assistant to Derek, he would make himself available 24/7, living and traveling with Derek when he required it. In return he would receive the monthly remuneration that had been written on the Post-it, full benefits -medical, dental, all travel expenses, all other expenses, company car, a generous clothing allowance and personal grooming expenses. There was a comprehensive Non Disclosure Agreement attached and his _job description_ stated vaguely that he would carry out anything his employer required, when, where and how he required within the law and bounds of personal safety. In addition he agreed not to enter into any relationship of a personal nature for the duration of his employment.

On reaching the final paragraph Stiles eyes widened and he had to read it twice as his heart rate increased and his scalp prickled. His eyes swept up to hale's face. "Is this last paragraph joke?"

Hale's lips thinned. "I told you once I don't joke about money or business. I don't like repeating myself."

Stiles read it again. At the end of six months, if he was still in the wolf's employ he would receive a _bonus_ of $100,000. "A hundred thousand dollars‽" Stiles squeaked.

"I believe in rewarding loyalty." Derek said simply. "And that bonus cannot be taken from you even if you leave the next day or I terminate your employment."

"It's mine regardless?" Stiles checked.

"Yes."

Stiles read on. For every six months he remained with Derek beyond the initial six, he received a further bonus of $50,000. So even if he quit after six months he'd come out ahead and be set up to return to Columbia and complete his education. The contract whilst vague on his _specific_ duties seemed professional and made him feel less slutty. And what did he know, maybe it was a standard contract among the rich and famous?

His fingers tightened on the stylus. Derek's stare was intense and pitiless.

With a shaking hand Stiles signed his name digitally across the bottom before he could change his mind.

He pushed the tablet and the stylus across the table toward Hale. Derek reached up and pressed the attendant button and the engines began to gear up.

Stiles lifted his eyes and saw Hale's, wicked, triumphal smile. "You'd better buckle in." He swept up the tablet and flipped the cover closed. "I believe this is the start of a long and very pleasant association for us both."

Stiles skin pricked with the uneasy feeling that he had just signed a deal with the devil...

 

END


End file.
